


What is a 'Love' in Beacon Hills?

by graveltotempo



Series: Hiding Boyfriends, Finding Trouble. The Family Business. [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Twins, Allison Argent is a Winchester (Supernatural), Alpha Derek Hale, BAMF Allison Argent, BAMF Stiles, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski are Soulmates, First Kiss, Hunters & Hunting, I have still not watched supernatural, Little Gore, M/M, Pining, Stallison are hunters, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester (Supernatural), Stiles has a sword and I think that's pretty neat, Werewolf Mates, all i know about destiel comes from tumblr, im sorry for the supernatural fans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23793178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graveltotempo/pseuds/graveltotempo
Summary: In 7 days, Stiles and Allison Winchester manage to: find out Scott is a werewolf, find out who his pack is formed of, destroy a bunch of zombies, find the witch that sent those zombies and Stiles also finds his boyfriends.For their first week back in Beacon Hills, they both think they did pretty great.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Hiding Boyfriends, Finding Trouble. The Family Business. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/469822
Comments: 9
Kudos: 198





	What is a 'Love' in Beacon Hills?

**Author's Note:**

> i maked this. the formatting is fucking me up, and I hope it looks decent. If it doesn't then I hope I choke.  
> :)

** DAY 1 - SUNDAY **

Stiles Stilinski fell in love with the house the moment he stopped his jeep in front of it.

He hadn’t been there with his parents when they had bought it, and had been more than a little worried about their taste.

However, the place looked amazing; big and spacious, with view of the woods and Beacon Hills Preserve from the kitchen window. It looked pretty new, but according to uncle Sam, it had been there since the 50s - hence the very cheap price they had managed to get it for. Reconstructing it had taken part of the summer, and Stiles was impressed by how much they had managed to achieve in such a little amount of time.

The rain had thankfully stopped pouring, but there was still humidity in the air. He picked the boxes of pizza with a hand and rushed through the little drizzle, keys dangling in his mouth because he firmly believed using more than one trip to take stuff from the car to the house was for weaklings.

After somehow managing to twist the keys in the keyhole, he stepped inside, calling out “I’m home!”, before closing the door with a gentle thud. Nobody answered him, but from the light shuffling noises in the living room, he knew that he had been heard.

He almost laughed when, a few moments later, the tell tale sound of someone trying to sneak up on him came from the hallway. Instead he pretended to be focused on the pizzas, and gasped in fake surprise when Scott McCall appeared in the doorway, huge smile plastered on his permanently grinning face.

“Scotty!” he called, as the boy jumped in his arms, laughing and hugging him with all his body and way more strength than usual. “Dude, we haven’t even been here for an  _ hour _ !”

The other boy gave him a mischievous smile. “My mum saw you two on the jeep at the traffic lights, and immediately told me. But what are you doing  _ here _ ? It’s October!”

Before Stiles could respond to that, his sister appeared in the kitchen, hair brushed down and one of his pop’s big shirts on. Scott grinned dopily at her, while she pretended not to notice and grabbed one of the pizza boxes. She was blushing though, which made her attempts void in Stiles’ mind. “You got me the mushrooms one?” she asked, sniffing the top of the box.

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Nope. Got you the one with pineapple on top, since you love it so much and always tell me to bring you some,” he deadpanned, and Allison huffed.

“Shut up, Thing 2, I was just making sure.” She turned to Scott expectantly, still blushing. “Wanna share?”

Scott smiled back, nodding his head like a cute little puppy. “Pineapple on pizza is a sin anyway, it’s rare nowadays finding someone who hates it as much as I do.”

Stiles didn’t say anything, just raising his eyebrows at the dance of dopey smiles, blushing and furtive glances the two kept exchanging with each other. It was sickly sweet, in his opinion.

Stiles, Allison and Scott had been friends since the twins were 6 years old, even though they managed to see each other maybe one week per year. Stiles and Scott had always been closer with each other, but since the beginning, Stiles had suspected the other boy to have a little bit of a crush on her, with the way he looked like a puppy every time he saw her. 

Until the last time they came to Beacon Hills, those looks had been one sided, but now, suddenly, his sister was answering them with her own. She hadn’t said anything to him yet, but Stiles was able to read between the lines.

That plus their twincity.

He didn’t mind though, because Scott had basically been Stiles’ only fixed friend - other than Allison - for a long time. Since all they did was moving around from country to country without stopping, the twins didn’t have time to make any friends. And, with the fact that usually they stopped with their parents, they didn’t have much time to socialise. Which was exactly why both Dean and Castiel agreed that leaving the two of them in Beacon Hills while they went hunting was a good idea. Cas – their dad – was kind of obsessed with the idea that they should get a normal teenager life.

And living near your best friend was part of the teenager dream apparently. Stiles wasn’t one to complain.

He grabbed his own pizza and left the other one in the kitchen, before setting on the carpet next to Allison’s feet with a grin. Scott was sat next to her, and he kicked at Stiles not so gently. “But seriously, what are you guys doing here? You’re never here on Halloween or Thanksgiving, and suddenly you’re here in the middle of October? Doesn’t make a lot of sense, dude.”

Stiles shrugged, swatting away his foot. “Well, pops said that if we kept moving we won’t have a chance to properly graduate and dad went crazy at the idea of denying us a proper childhood. It was kinda sweet until he started whipping out books left and right about how to properly raise a teenager. Then it was just hilarious.”

Scott’s face broke into a huge smile. “So what, are you guys going to start going school here? Are you enrolling to Beacon Hills High?”

Allison took a bite out of her pizza. “We are already entered, dad and pops just have to sign a few papers on Monday and we are enrolled officially.” She explained, and almost yelped when Scott reached out to hug them both at the same time.

“Oh my god, you guys! Why did you not tell me? This is so great!” he said happily, much to both twins’ amusement.

Stiles just grinned and took another pizza slice so that he wouldn’t have to show how pleased Scott’s words made him. Because yes, he considered Scott his best friend, but… How did he know that Scott didn’t have any other, closer friends? Scott was a pretty cool and nice guy, in Stiles’ opinion. He probably had so many-

“Why is there a motorbike parked in front of the house?” called a voice from the doorway. Stiles did not yelp in surprise, but it was a damn near thing, as he turned to glare at his fathers and his uncle at the doorway.

Dean flashed him a quick grin before turning to look at where Scott and Allison were sat close to each other, a single eyebrow raised. “Oh. I guess you are the motorbike’s owner.”

Stiles bit back a smile at the way Scott jumped to his feet and Allison fixed her shirt, both of them staring horrified at the adults. He exchanged an amused glance with Uncle Sam before focusing back at the blushing Scott. “Ah, yes, uhm, it’s mine. The motorbike. It’s mine.” He swallowed nervously.

Cas nodded at him, moving forward with a smile. “Scott McCall, right?” he asked, and Scott nodded even more vehemently.

“Yes, sir. I mean, Mr Winchester.”

Cas waved him off. “Just call me Cas. You remember my husband, De-”

“Mr Winchester.” Interrupted Dean with a scowl on his face. “Just call me Mr Winchester.” He shook Scott’s hand with more force than it was necessary, making Scott’s face pale substantially while Stiles silently choked to death on the floor.

Sam snickered, as he stood to face Scott. “And I’m obviously the cool uncle. You can call me Sam, Scott.” He told him, nodding at him before disappearing in the kitchen, sending a wink to the twins.

Dean didn’t seem to be finished with him yet. “It’s getting late now, don’t you think, Scott? Your parents wouldn’t want you out there… at night, right?” he asked pointedly, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to appear taller than he already was.

Cas rolled his eyes, but Scott jumped on action. “Yes, definitely, I should yeah, get going.” He said, putting down his half finished pizza slice.

Allison glared at her father, before standing up too. “I’ll walk you to the door.” She said, grabbing the other boy’s arm.

Dean looked at her in betrayal for a moment, before turning to Stiles. “Yeah, go walk him to the door, Stiles.” 

The teenager rolled his eyes at him, sending a ‘really?’ at Cas before following Allison and Scott outside. Once he thought he was out of ear range, Scott turned to the twins.

“Your father hates me! He didn’t use to hate me, what did I do?” 

Allison rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t  _ hate  _ you, he’s just-”

“Pops hates you, what did you  _ do,  _ McCall?” interrupted her Stiles, looking way too amused by the entire situation. Allison glared, but he ignored her. “Doesn’t matter. The dude is going to be gone in a day, two maximum, you can make all the heart eyes you want when he’s gone.” He told him, patting him on the back and pretending not to notice how red both him and Ally had turned.

The girl cleared her throat. “Thanks for coming and seeing us, Scott. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

Scott nodded, glancing between the twins like he was trying to figure something out. Then he surged forward, enveloping both of them in a hug. “I’m really happy you guys are here,” he finished, and immediately made a beeline for his scooter, avoiding eye contact with Allison.

“Bye bye,” whispered the girl and Scott, who couldn’t have possibly heard her, looked down, his skin darkening with a flush as he drove off.

Stiles turned to face his sister.

“Don’t”, she said, and he cackled.

Instead of following her in the living room and enjoy watching her rip their pops a new one, though, he headed upstairs to his room.

Growing up the way they had, always on the move because of their parents, Stiles hadn’t really had time to collect many things, or to make any place  _ his _ .

But, despite how empty and spartan the room looked, it was perfect to him. There wasn’t enough personal touch to be able to say the word ‘ _ mine _ ’ yet, but he still felt content as he sat down on the new mattress.

He glanced outside the window, and smiled, looking down at the jeep he had convinced his parents to help him get and the Impala that would be gone but the next day. 

Two red eyes surveyed the house from the woods.

** DAY 2 - MONDAY **

Beacon Hills High School looked to Stiles and Allison like any other High School that they had ever seen.

When Castiel had first proposed Beacon Hills as the place where they should have their ‘normal’ senior year, Allison had been quite doubtful.

While they had visited the place several times in the past few years, and one of the twin’s closest friends - if not their only - lived in the small town, it wasn’t exactly the place she would have described as normal and perfect to spend their senior year in.

Her brother hadn’t been really sold onto the idea either, proposing New York as a more appropriate place; however, here they were and well, neither of them could really complain.

“All right,” finally said Dean, walking out of the office after signing the appropriate paperwork for their enrolment. “I think that’s all.”

Castiel was looking at them like he was close to tears. “I’m gonna miss you both so much,” he said, enveloping both of them in a hug.

“Dad,” complained Allison, but she also held on to him tightly. “We are going to be fine.”

The angel didn’t let go of them, sighing. “Dean, please remind me why I’m doing this to myself?”

“Want them to experience at least one normal year in their lives and them to enjoy themselves like normal teenagers or something,” replied his husband, the speech engrained in his mind by how many times Castiel had repeated it. Then his expression turned softer - as soft as Dean’s expression could turn, anyway. “They are tough kids. They’ll be fine.”

Finally, Castiel let go of them. “Don’t throw any parties, call me if you run out of money or you need something, and behave.”

Stiles blinked at him. “Didn’t you say that throwing a party while your parents aren’t there is part of the high school experience?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “But I’m not supposed to know about it, obviously,” He wiped what looked suspiciously like a tear from the corner of his eye and stepped back next to Dean. “All right, I’ll stop being an uncool dad. Off you go.”

Allison and Stiles glanced at each other before starting towards where they had been previously shown the classroom door. 

Three…

Two…

One…

“I love you!” called out Castiel and the twins hid their laughter, waving with the back of their hands before disappearing down a corridor.

Stiles arched an eyebrow at his sister. “How many messages do you think he’s going to send between now and the end of the day?”

“I saw pops stealing his phone earlier,” noted Allison, but her brother didn’t look impressed.

“You think that’s ever stopped him before?” Then he looked up at the red door in front of them and turned a little serious. “Not going to lie, I am a little nervous.”

His sister quickly pressed his hand into hers. “Me too, Thing Two. But it’s fine. By lunchtime we will have found Scott, and even if everyone dislike us, at least we’ll have him.” Then she let go of him, and opened up the door.

Neither Allison nor Stiles were particularly shy people, to be honest. Still, having to walk in front of an entire class of people and handing a slip of paper to the teacher in that complete silence was nerve wracking. Both of them would take killing a coven of vampires over this any day.

“Stiles and Allison Winchester,” boomed the voice of the teacher at the desk as he read the slips they handed him. “I’m Coach Finstock. Do you play sports, Winchester?”

The two stared at each other, confused as to who he was talking to, before Allison answered for them both. “We both do running…”

The Coach pointed a finger at Stiles. “I coach the lacrosse team here: see you tomorrow after classes end for try-outs.” Then he made a vague gesture to the rest of the classroom. “Find a seat somewhere.”

Unfortunately for them, there were no free seats next to each other, so with a confused nod at each other, Stiles found a free seat next to a lanky blond in the back of the classroom, and Allison settled in the seat a strawberry blonde had apparently claimed for her bag.

The blond glanced at him, a small frown on his face. “Your name is _Stiles_?”

The normal year in High School had officially started.

+

“Don’t pay too much attention to Finstock,” said a brunet boy in front of him as the bell for lunch finally rung.

Stiles looked up, surprised to recognise the guy who was sitting in front of him during first period. The other boy smiled. “That was his way of inviting you to try out since our lacrosse team is running out of people.” Then he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Danny.”

“Stiles,” he answered shaking the offered hand.

Danny dimpled at that. “I figured you weren’t _Allison_.” When Stiles huffed a small laugh at that, he beckoned him to follow him. “Come on, I’ll get you to the cafeteria.”

During their short walk to the lunch area, Stiles found out that Danny was the main goalie for the BH lacrosse team, was very close to a guy called Jackson and that both Jackson and Scott were captains of the team.

That last tidbit of information was particularly interesting to Stiles. 

“Scott is captain of the team? Scott _McCall_?!”

“Yeah,” Danny blinked at him in surprise. “You know him?”

Stiles smiled a little, thoughts and connections running through his mind. “He’s actually one of my best friends. I usually come here during the summer for a week or two and we spend time together. Me and Ally.” He accepted the plate of salad from the lunchlady. “Is he any good?”

“If I were you I’d avoid the meat,” whispered Danny, and Stiles smiled again, grabbing instead one of the plastic wrapped sandwiches. “But yeah; he’s super fast and one of the best players, it’s like he never gets tired. Come on, you can sit with me and Jackson and the others.”

Stiles followed him, a small smile on his face that to anyone who knew anything about him would indicate he had just made a huge connection, but that to Danny probably meant that perhaps Stiles found him cute.

The table that Danny brought him to was more packed than Stiles had previously anticipated. It was a long lunch bench set with a number of students that Stiles vaguely recognised from the previous classes as well as \- 

“Scott!”

The brown skinned boy leaped out of his chair next to Allison and enveloped him in a huge hug, a ridiculous smile on his face. “Finally, Stiles! I had started thinking that you got lost or kidnapped or something.”

Scott then proceeded to put Stiles’ tray next to his, ignoring the grumbling of the blonde that was currently seated next to him as she shifted slightly to make space for him.

“Danny gave me a hand,” explained the brunet, taking a seat next to his best friend. “Hey, Thing One.”

“Hey, Thing Two.”

“How do you know them already?” asked a blond sitting directly across from Scott – the same blond that had been sitting in Coach’s class with him – a small pout on his face.

“Long story short, I saved Scott from a bully when we were six so every summer when we came to visit we spent some time with him,” explained Allison.

“I wasn’t being bullied!”

Another blond guy, sitting across from Danny, narrowed his eyes at her for a second, then turned his attention back to his food, as Scott decided it was time he introduced them to everyone sitting at the table.

“Okay, so anyway, everyone, this is Stiles and Allison Winchester.” Allison waved, a little embarrassed, while Stiles bowed as much as the bench allowed him, to Scott’s amusement. “Ally, Sti, these are my friends. 

“From the far end of the table, Danny, goalie of the team and also the sweetest guy on it,” the boy dimpled, waving at Stiles, “Jackson, resident jackass and co-captain of the lacrosse team,” the blond in question flipped Scott off without looking away from his plate, “Lydia, queen of the entire school,” a strawberry blonde who waved at Allison without even glancing at her brother, “Vernon Boyd, but he goes by Boyd,” a dark skinned boy who stoicly nodded at them both, “Erica, the _baddest_ girl in school,” the blonde next to Stiles grinned at them both and winked, “Isaac, one of my closest friends,” the blond from Finstock’s class smiled at Scott, “Kira, the only girl on the lacrosse team,” a sweet looking Asian girl smiled at them both, “and Malia, Kira’s girlfriend.”

Malia glared at Scott. “Is my only identifiable trait being Kira’s girlfriend?”

“No, it’s simply your only redeemable quality,” answered Lydia inspecting her nails.

“Bite me.”

Instead of dignifying that with an answer, Lydia turned her attention to Allison. “Are you free today after school? I need some new clothes and time to decide whether I want to adopt you or not.”

Stiles arched an eyebrow at that, amused, while Allison frowned. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

Erica snorted. “Trust me, this is Lydia being _nice_. It’s all very new to her she isn’t used to it.”

Isaac and Scott both laughed at that, Lydia pretending not to hear them. “So…?”

Allison turned to her brother, questioningly.

Stiles blinked.

Allison narrowed her eyes.

Stiles shrugged.

Allison tilted her head to the side.

Stiles tilted his head the opposite direction.

Allison turned to Lydia, smiling. “Yes, why not?”

Lydia \- and the rest of the table, to be honest - was staring at them in utter confusion. 

“What was _that_?” finally asked Kira, and Scott snickered.

“It’s their weird twins secret language. At one point you resign yourself to it being impossible to decode and give up,” he explained, from experience. 

Stiles laughed, putting an arm around Scott’s neck. “Why are you implying that we aren’t a delight to be around?”

“You guys are a _nightmare_ ,” retorted Scott, earning a shove from Allison.

The girl then pouted. “Weren’t you saying how much you missed us just yesterday?”

Isaac looked up at that, frowning. “Yesterday?”

Scott paled at that, while Stiles explained, “Yeah, yesterday. He found out from his mom,” he smiled that smile again, like he had just figured out something again, then continued, “that we were in town and came to see us.”

“McCall, what the fuck?!” barked Erica, pointing a fork in his direction. “Is that why you were late?”

While the group started tearing Scott a new one at the information, Allison turned to her brother, curios. 

Stiles just grinned, before picking up his phone and – after ignoring the messages from Sam and his father – quickly typed a response.

** from:  ** thing two

** text:  ** scott is a werewolf.

Allison’s head snapped up immediately, and she stared at her brother for a moment. Then she turned her eyes to Scott. 

She narrowed her eyes and punched in a response

** from:  ** thing one

** text:  ** _ bullshit _ .

** text:  ** no way.

** from:  ** thing two

** text:  ** care to make this interesting?

** from:  ** thing one

** text:  ** 50

** text:  ** without a hint of reasonable doubt

** from:  ** thing two

** text:  ** bet

** DAY 3 - TUESDAY **

The only reason Stiles accepted to show up at the lacrosse try-outs was to prove to his sister that Scott McCall was in fact a werewolf.

To be honest, he could understand why the notion was hard for her to believe in. After all this was Scott McCall! The little asthmatic kid she had had to save from a group of bullies when she was six years old. 

In her eyes, at some level, Scott was still that helpless kid who \- once he had been saved by her - decided she was the love of his life and always followed her around like a lost little puppy.

But Stiles was able to immediately tell the difference between the Scott he had seen the year before and this Scott he had met in school.

The Scott then had been thinner and smaller, his hand always clenched around his inhaler because of how bad his asthma was. He, as much as he might have liked lacrosse, would not have found himself within a ten metre range of the field.

He definitely wouldn’t be ‘cool’ enough to hang out with the likes of Lydia and Jackson and uh… That was something interesting he was going to have to keep his eyes on.

Lydia and Allison looked up at him when he came to take a seat next to them, and the blonde frowned. “The field is on the other side.”

He shrugged, settling on the bench. “I am just here to observe,” he explained, all the while Allison just stared at him suspiciously.

Then her attention was immediately back on the field when Coach Finstock blew his whistle, and Stiles turned around as well.

Along with Scott, Jackson, Kira, Isaac and Danny were also on the field, stretching out. The co-captain smiled when he noticed Allison waving at him from the stand, and also waved hard enough to break his shoulder off, which whatever. It was cute.

Jackson and Scott were of course the first ones to go as per Coach’s orders, to show the rest of the team and any new members how to do it right, each of them aiming quick rapid hits at Danny in the goal.

Jackson’s first hit told Stiles everything he needed to know; the way his hand moved, the quickness with which the ball left his stick, and the way his lips curled in a smile even before he threw the ball.

He was holding back.

And yet the ball flew inside the post without giving Danny any chance of catching it, no matter the fact that Danny predicted where the ball was gonna be shot and him throwing himself in that direction.

“Two,” he whispered, low enough for only Allison to hear.

“One,” answered the girl, without looking away from where Jackson got ready for his second throw.

“It’s two at least. I hope you took cash out,” he said, and Allison didn’t reply, her eyes on the figures on the field.

Jackson grabbed the ball after his throws and threw it at Scott with almost more speed than he had thrown it at Danny, but the other boy caught it easily, getting ready to throw.

Then Scott threw it, too precise and too fast for the goalie that had replaced Danny to catch. 

Stiles turned to his sister. “50.”

Lydia turned to him, frowning at his words, but Allison continued straight ahead.

“You said without reasonable doubt,”

“Seriously?” Scott threw another perfect ball, and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

He stayed silent as everyone else practiced their throws after Scott, only commenting when Isaac and Kira threw. At Kira’s throw, however he stilled for a second, eyes narrowed. “Half,”

Allison shook her head. “Something else.”

“What are you two  _ talking  _ about?” asked Lydia, fed up of the half sentences and numbers they were sharing with each other. “What’s something else?”

“Kira is something else. She is keeping up with these boys without breaking a sweat. She’s really good. Definitely better than Isaac,” well, technically Allison wasn’t lying. 

The blond boy chose that moment to look up at the stands, and Stiles had to cover up his laughter with a cough. Absolutely no subtlety. 

When they started playing a friendly match - although how  _ friendly  _ can a lacrosse match really be? - against each other though, Stiles turned to his sister again. 

“Asthma.” he whispered, low enough that Lydia didn’t hear.

Allison kept her eyes on the game for a few more moments, before silently sliding a 50 dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to him without looking up.

+

One of the things Stiles was most glad of was how close to the woods their house was. After sitting next to his sister for about 5 more minutes, he had left the game, ignoring Lydia’s pointed looks.

The only reason he had gone there was to prove to his sister how much more observant than her he was, after all. He had been so sure that he was right, he hadn’t even bothered going to the ATM.

And the reason Allison had withdrawn the money was that, while she was still doubtful, she had also noticed the fact that Scott was a werewolf.

It was the little things he did that tipped Stiles off, to be honest. The hug the night before and today at lunch time, for example. Scott had always been more of high five kind of dude, and the way he had stroked his cheek on Stiles’ shoulder before letting him go reminded Stiles of a small animal.

Then the fact that he acted like he heard what Allison had said, even though she had spoken way too quietly for him to make out anything. That and him being an ace on the field without once rushing to get his inhaler, was damning evidence.

He was also 100% sure that Jackson, Isaac and Kira were definitely part of Scott’s pack too, although he wasn’t sure what Kira  _ was _ . Boyd, Erica and Malia were still a question mark, but Danny was definitely human. Whether he was in the pack or not, though, that wasn’t clear.

His sister would probably chide at him for walking into the woods with nothing but a backpack and no weapons to defend himself, but those woods… Stiles knew them.

Plus, he more or less knew where he was going.

Sure, he hadn’t been there in nearly 8 years, but he could figure out where -

He stopped in his tracks and turned behind him, not missing the faint sound of leaves crunching when he did so. He had felt followed for a couple of minutes now, even though he didn’t feel in danger – he had a sixth sense when it came to being in danger – and that sound confirmed his suspicions.

Someone was following him.

Someone or  _ something _ .

He kept his eyes on the spot he had seen moving earlier, and cocked his head to the side, not moving for a couple of seconds, the only sound in his ears his own breath.

He could, of course, investigate - noise or not.

But…

He smiled to himself and continued towards where he was headed before. 

It took him a couple more minutes to finally arrive. 

It had definitely seen better days, the steps looked like they’d break if you step on them too hard and the tree itself looked like a shadow of its former self, but, to Stiles, it looked as perfect as ever.

The tree house he had spent so many days in.

He avoided the steps, instead using the lower branches to climb up the tree before entering the hole in the house he had used to call door.

His pops had actually made him a door for it when he was younger, but nature hadn’t been kind to it, probably breaking it one stormy night. 

Now the house looked like a relict, a ship that survived at the bottom of the sea. The wooden walls were covered in dirt and crawlies, and the drawings that had previously adorned it where nowhere to be seen.

Stiles pulled out a torch from his backpack, illuminating the small room.

The walls were completely empty but for a couple of spiders and other insects walking around, but there were a couple of boxes in one of the corners. The rug that Stiles had brought from Sam’s house when he was 8 was rolled and put in a corner too, and Stiles felt a sense of melancholy washing over him as he sat down next to one of the boxes.

The last time he had been in the tree house was when he was around 10 years old. He remembered sitting up on the rug with crayons and coloured paper all around him as he wrote, in distinct colours, ‘ _ No Girls Allowed’ _ . 

His sister had been furious when she had seen that sign, even though she never visited the tree house and the message wasn’t even for her.

He laughed a little at the memory, before opening one of the boxes. 

Despite the state the house was in, the contents of the box were perfectly well preserved. Drawings, colouring papers, books, comic books and several expired snacks were sitting all around it, as perfect as the day he left them there.

“You are the pop to my tart, the cheese to my cheese sandwich, the candles to my birthday cake, the h in happiness, the b in beautiful bunnyteeth \- it is a word! -, and the best person EVER. I love you!” he read out, and then smiled at the little drawing at the bottom of it.

It was just a heart, the words ‘S+D 4ever’ etched on it. He traced it with his index finger for a moment, before turning his attention back to the rest of the contents inside the box.

He stayed in the tree house longer than he intended, only jumping out a few hours later, after a message from Allison alerted him of how late he was already.

However, he barely walked one minute back towards the house that he realised someone/something was following him again. This time though, they were being clumsier than before and doing a bad job at covering up the noises they were making.

Stiles momentarily stopped, humming as he noticed a footprint in front of him. He knew no werewolf had left  _ that  _ footprint though, from the size of it and the stench - rotten apples and stool? - that came from it. 

He took out his phone and snapped a quick picture of it, taking note of the traces of blood on the tree next to the footprint - definitely a bird or squirrel caught off guard - and then stood up again.

“One, two, three, four five, once I caught a  _ wolf  _ alive” he sang, walking again and turning around a maple tree.

“Five, four, three, two, one” He quickly turned back around, turning on his torch and pointing it to the person who had been following him.

“Stop right here, now you’re done!” He frowned. “What?”

“God, turn that thing off!” complained the person in front of him, trying to shield his eyes from the torchlight.

Stiles moved the beam away from his face, but didn’t turn it off, instead staring at the person in front of him in confusion. “Isaac. Why are  _ you  _ following me?”

The inflection was totally lost on the blond boy, who glanced around him like a clue or an excuse would simply jump at him. “Well, uh… Why were you in there? This part of the reserve is private property.”

Of course, Stiles knew that. “Well  _ that  _ is mine. And secondly, why are _you_ on private property?”

Isaac frowned. “It’s not yours, and uh… I live here.”

“It’s too. Talia made me sign for joint custody of it when I was six years old. And what do you mean you live here?” As far as Stiles was aware, only  _ one  _ family lived in the Beacon Hills preserve.

Isaac blinked. “You knew Talia Hale?”

Instead of answering that question, Stiles spoke again. “Your name is Isaac Lahey.”

“It is…”

Stiles frowned further. “Does Scott live with you?” but even as he asked that, he knew it wasn’t the case. Scott still lived with his mom. But if Scott and Isaac were part of the same pack, and if that pack was the pack Stiles was thinking about, how come Isaac was living there and Scott wasn’t?

“Why would Scott live with me?”

And it didn’t look like Isaac was lying.

He shook his head. “Oh well. Goodbye, Isaac,” he finally said, walking away with more questions than answers in his head.

Isaac didn’t follow him, instead watching him and his torch as they walked away, until the light disappeared from sight.

He didn’t hear it approach him, but he was able to sense it when it stopped next to him.

“Who the fuck  _ is  _ he?”

The red eyed wolf next to him didn’t answer.

** DAY 4 - WEDNESDAY **

Watching as Isaac, Boyd and Erica looked around them suspiciously before dashing past all the cars in the parking lot and disappearing in the woods, Stiles couldn’t help but wonder _how_ did no one figure out that they were supernatural creatures.

“I think it has to do with the fact that the average John Doe does not believe werewolves exist,” explained Allison, when Stiles mentioned it to her less than an hour later, as she opened her cup noodles. “Second, there is no way I am going anywhere,”

Her brother gave her an exaggerate pout. “Come on! It’ll be so much fun if we can find what they are looking for before they do,”

Allison pressed play on the Netflix special, not looking at her brother. “There is also the little fact that we don’t know what they are looking for.”

At that, Stiles smirked. He very pointedly opened his own cup ramen. “And what if I knew _exactly_ what they were looking for?”

The girl nearly broke her neck with how fast she turned around, her brother pretending not to notice as he slurped obnoxiously. 

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re bluffing,” she said, but she didn’t turn back to the television.

“I’m not.”

“Swear,”

“On pop’s Impala,” he promised, and Allison finally paused the movie. 

“All right. Shoot it,” she shook her finger in his face. “But I demand proof,”

Stiles handed her his phone, conveniently opened to the picture he had taken yesterday. “What leaves such big imprints, eats birds or squirrels, and smells like rancid apples?”

Allison handed him the phone back, a smirk on her face. “Ateians zombies? Here in Beacon Hills? But to what purpose?”

Her brother appeared disappointed at the question. “If pops could be here to witness your astounding lack of observation skills, right now...” he started, taking another bite. “I am shocked, Thing One. Absolutely shocked.”

“Male or female?” finally asked the brunette, and that took Stiles by surprise.

“Why would you say male?”

This time it was Allison’s turn to look at him like he was being disappointing. “You know, my mistake comes from trying to pretend that I’m normal and everyone around me is also normal. Yours comes from failing at normal human connection and communication.”

“What are you _talking_ about?!”

Instead of answering, Allison sighed, turning her attention back on the movie. “You’re so fucking stupid, Stiles.”

“You’re mean,” complained her brother, turning his attention back to the television too.

Allison didn’t reply, but couldn’t help a small smile from appearing on her face.

While someone might say that she was brawn and he was brain, there were times in which Allison seriously considered slapping him upside down for how genuinely obtuse he was. 

With the way Danny had been hanging around him all the time, it was honestly impossible to believe that Stiles had not noticed the huge crush the boy had started to grow on him.

Although, there was always the possibility…

She turned her gaze on him for a few moments. He looked completely entranced in Lara Jean’s preparation for her first date with Peter, and fully relaxed. A small necklace hung on his neck, the celtic triskele sitting there, untouched.

Yes, he had never stopped wearing it but…

She shook her head. It had been years, now, and the last time they saw each other he still lived in New York. Stiles couldn’t possibly be still hung up on that.

“Why are you staring at me?” asked the boy, not moving his eyes away from the screen.

Allison smiled, dimples showing up, before leaning over and smacking a kiss on his cheek. She ignored his protesting, and patted his head. “Nothing. I missed hunting with you, little bro.”

“5 minutes, A. 5, goddamn, minutes.”

+

After finishing up their snack/dinner, it took Stiles and Allison no more than half an hour to reach the point were Stiles had found the footprint the day before. 

Allison moved her bow and arrow to one side before crouching down to touch the mark left on the ground, pressing the soil with a finger. 

Stiles simply stared at her, anticipating. Because this was her camp, this was her area of expertise.

When it came to knowing stuff, researching, or even making stuff like poison, Stiles was the number one. He could recite to you the contents of his bestiary by memory alone, and he always seemed to formulate a plan on how to take down the bad guy in seconds.

On the other side, when it came to actually combat, tracking, and anything that made a field hunter someone worth their name, Allison was your girl. She was able to fight off hordes of monsters with her arrows alone, and she freakishly never fucking missed.

Though it was early to tell, both Dean and Sam knew that the twins would probably become the most dangerous hunters to ever exist. Because while separately they excelled in different things, together they completed each other.

Together they made one undefeatable hunter.

“What time did you find this?” asked Allison, surveying the little remains of blood on the tree trunk next to her.

“Phone says 7.28. The blood was almost fully dry then.”

“And when you got here,”

“I didn’t check the time,” confirmed Stiles, with a shrug. “But I didn’t notice any blood or mark.”

Of course at that time, he had been more concerned with finding the tree house and the thought that someone - who could not have been simply Isaac - had been following him, but Allison didn’t need to know all that.

“The footprint is older than the blood,” finally said Allison, standing up again. “Whatever made that mark was not flying or jumping and got caught by a zombie. It was most likely brushed against the trunk on its way west.” She turned to him again. “Were you alone when you noticed it?”

“Isaac was following me,” he confessed, and then frowned. “But he doesn’t look like he would eat raw animals, I don’t think. I mean he walks around with that scarf around his neck all the time, he must have better manners-”

“Why was Isaac following you?” asked Allison, and damn, he thought he had been leading her away from that very point. “What were you doing out - Shh.”

Stiles, who had stilled the moment his sister had silenced him, looked at her with confused eyes.

Allison tapped her ear slowly, quietly. 

_ There is something coming this way _ .

Stiles made to reach for inside his jacket, but Allison stopped him with a look. 

He heard it now, more clearly. The sound of someone trying to stalk through the foliage without making noise. For a group of werewolves - because Stiles was ready to bet it was one of Scott’s pack mates - they were _surprisingly_ loud when moving around the woods.

But neither of them had gotten all the way there to have to explain to Erica that they knew there were zombies in the woods without actually telling her that they knew about supernatural creatures. 

The sound of a phone ringing suddenly disturbed the evening, sending squirrels and birds clicking and chippering away in the night.

The wolf stilled momentarily, before rushing in direction of where the music was coming, and the twins chose that moment to quietly move towards west.

Stiles waited a few more seconds before turning to Allison, a pinched look on his face. “How stupid can they be? _Who_ has their actual phone off silent mode in 2019?”

“Dumb them is good for us,” joked Allison, eyes still as alert as ever as she scanned her surroundings. 

“Still,” complained her brother, “I don’t want them to _die,_ you know? _They_ don’t know who the witch is.”

“Tree,” said Allison then, which made no sense whatsoever.

But the Winchester twins were a team, and the fact that Stiles didn’t question it and simply started climbing one of the oak trees, spoke for that.

Within a few seconds, though, the reason of her words became apparent, as Jackson and a zombie broke into the clearing in front of them, falling on the ground.

The werewolf kicked the monster off him, before mauling off his right arm, as more zombies and werewolves appeared around them. Stiles quickly recognized Malia, Erica, Isaac, Boyd and… 

He smiled, watching as an alpha in full wolf form ripped off the head of one of the zombies, before growling loudly as two others tried to approach him.

Kira appeared then, her body glowing in electricity as she striked down another one of the monsters, and Stiles and Allison met each others’ eyes in surprise; they hadn’t thought they’d meet a kitsune in the middle of the California forest.

“We need to stop them,” called out Scott’s voice as the werewolf jumped in the middle, attacking the zombie Jackson had been working with his teeth few seconds ago. 

“You think we didn’t fucking consider that?” Jackson swore, growling in frustration when the zombie in question grabbed his arm, which attached itself to his arm again. “They are unkillable!”

“Stiles and Allison are both in the woods!” explained Scott, groaning at the bite of one of the zombies. “Fuck! I just found Stiles’ cell while I was in the woods!”

Isaac turned to the wolf who was still attacking the corpse he had beheaded, trying to dismember it. “I told you you should have fake attacked him so he wouldn’t show up again! He wouldn’t have come back if he knew an actual wolf lived in here!”

Stiles could feel Allison staring at him from the other tree, but he didn’t turn around.

To be honest, he was quite offended that Isaac would assume a mere encounter with a wolf would be enough to scare him off. After all he was nearly eaten by one - no he wasn’t exaggerating, _Allison_ \- when he was six years old, yet here he was again.

He was also disappointed in the werewolves and their Alphas to be honest. 

They had faced it down with alpha packs, kanimas, evil Nemeton and evil druids, and apparently a corrupt Alpha werewolf, and still couldn’t figure out the biggest threat the zombies in front of them were creating was scaring humans who didn’t know about the supernatural and biting a little harder than a dog.

From the way they were fighting, it seemed like the alpha had assumed them to be Necroiders Lepers, which were… a different story entirely.

“Have you found them, at least?” said Malia, who, at a closer look, seemed to be more of a coyote than a wolf.

Scott glared at her before, yelping in pain. “Fuck! And if I found them, I would have led with that, don’t you think?”

Allison cocked her arrow, taking pity on the werewolves out there, and Stiles finally unsheathed his sword.

It was a sword made for him especially by a group of pixies he had taken pity on when he was younger. It was made with magic, and thanks to that, sheathed in its holder, it looked like a small dagger Stiles could easily hide in his socks.

However, fully unsheathed, it was almost the size of a full arm, thick and sharp, with a bronze handle made specifically to fit Stiles’ hand.

His pops had given him a glock – a ww2 small bore target rifle – when he was 14 years old, but, even though he always carried it with him, Stiles preferred using the sword.

Allison let out three different arrows, each of them hitting the zombies in the middle of the neck, making every werewolf look up in sudden shock. Then she pulled out a match, turning it on as both her and Stiles leaped out of their hidden spots.

Stiles barely heard Scott gasping his name, before he neatly sliced the neck off the zombie in front of him, kicking the head in Allison’s direction. The girl threw the lit match on the floor, not waiting to see the head catch on fire before pulling out one of her arrows as hard as possible, breaking it off the zombie’s head.

It took the twins about one minute to finish off the rest of the zombies, two pires of flames next to them: one for the zombie’s heads and the other for their bodies.

Only then they turned to the pack, who was staring at them with shocked expressions on their faces.

Isaac was the first one to find the use of his mouth again. 

“Seriously,” he said, eyeballing between the two of them, “Who the _fuck_ are you?”

The Winchesters just smiled at that.

** DAY 5 - THURSDAY **

Stiles was more than a little annoyed with the events of the day before.

In his very own opinion, him and Allison had been really fucking cool when they had descended from the trees and attacked/destroyed every single one of the zombies around, and the pack had looked shocked too.

But the way it ended? It had left Stiles with a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

+

_ “Who the fuck are you?” asked Isaac, staring at the twins like they were aliens or something. _

_ Stiles blinked innocently, twirling his sword in his hand. “Your classmates, Stiles and Allison?” He pretended to be worried. “You don’t remember us?” _

_ Scott shifted back in his human form, looking worried at the two of them. “I am really confused.” _

_ It was Jackson who arrived to the solution first, however. “Isn’t it obvious? They are clearly werewolf hunters,” he said, claws coming out once again. _

_ Allison arched an eyebrow at his action, unimpressed. “First of all, it’s ‘monster’ hunters. We do not specialise in werewolves. Second, put those away, before you hurt yourself.” _

_ “Plus,” continued Stiles, “If we wanted to hurt you or kill, don’t you think we would have done earlier? Or even days ago?” _

_ They exchanged looks with each other, before Scott seemed to make the connection. “You knew we were werewolves?” _

_ “ _ I _noticed something was off even before you left our house Sunday, unlike someone over here,” said the first, pompously. “You are not very good at hiding it.”_

_ His sister stopped glaring at him to turn her attention to the pack. “Humans don’t play lacrosse like that. You guys should tone it down and pretend to fuck up a couple of times before they test you for doping and notice there is something really fucked up about your DNA.” _

_ “I don’t play lacrosse,” pointed out Boyd, watching them curiously. “What gave me away?” _

_ “Packs, especially werewolf packs, stick together,” explained Stiles. “I say this with all the love in my heart, bro, but there is no way becoming good at lacrosse meant Scott started sitting next to people like Danny, Jackson and Lydia at lunch.” Scott pouted, and Stiles put a hand on his shoulder. “The only reason he and his fucked up bike could get a seat next to Jackson’s porshe sitting ass was pack.” _

_ “Danny and Lydia aren’t supernatural, though. And I’m a kitsune,” pointed out Kira. _

_ Allison exchanged a quick look with Stiles, before speaking. “We knew you weren’t a werewolf, but it was clear you weren’t human either. And well, I’m assuming it would look weird if Jackson dropped his best friend and started sitting with you guys instead; especially during senior year.” _

_ “How did you guys know we were here?” _

_ As Allison went on to explain how they had tracked them down, Stiles turned around to interact with the fully turned alpha wolf of the pack, but was quickly surprised to see him gone. _

_ “Where did he go?!” he complained, turning to look between Boyd and Jackson. “Your Alpha. Where is he?” _

_ “How did you-” _

_ “Red eyes, only fully wolf, stronger than any of you, take your pick,” he said, interrupting the beta. “Where did he go?” _

_ “Why are you so curios?” wondered Erica, crossing her arms around her chest. “Are you planning to capture him or something?” _

_ “We protect those who cannot protect themselves,” recited Allison, but her gaze was on Stiles. “Why  _ do _you wanna know, Thing Two?”_

_ Stiles stared hard at the point where he supposed the werewolf had disappeared, before turning to the pack again. “A witch sent those zombies after you, not to hurt you but to fuck with you. Tomorrow at school I’ll show you who they are.” _

+

“Stiles,” called Allison, and the boy blinked.

Right. They were meant to confront the witch.

She had barely looked up when the rest of the pack showed up to sit at her bench outside, daintly biting at her cookie. “I thought you lacrosse boys had training today,”

“They do,” said Erica, sitting right across from her. “But Stiles and Allison said something yesterday, and we wanted to confirm it with you.”

The witch finally looked up, looking at Allison and Stiles with a quirked eyebrow. “You did?”

“Bidibi bodibi bu,” started Stiles.

“The zombie sending witch is you.” finished Allison pointing a finger at the girl in front of her.

The girl finished her bite, before turning to the rest of the pack in contempt. “I am really surprised that none of you were able to figure it out,” she finally said, and the pack stared at her in shock. “Between the pixies, the pimples, the mild poisonings and everything else, I thought you guys would figure it out quicker.”

“You are a _witch_?!” nearly screeched Jackson, staring at her in shock. “You…? Since...?”

The sentiment was reciprocated by nearly everyone else. “Lydia Martin, what the fuck?” finally said Erica, staring at her like a fish out of water. 

Lydia turned her attention to the twins. “I knew the gig was up the moment the Winchester rolled into town, though.”

This time it was Allison and Stiles’ turn to look at her in surprise. “You… know us?”

The red head rolled her eyes. “Any witch family or coven worthy of their name knows who the Winchesters are. The most powerful trio of hunters in the world.” She pointed her finger at Scott. “You _definitely_ should have known something.”

Scott didn’t pay attention to her words. “So the entire time… you knew? About us being werewolves and everything?”

The girl shook her head. “Not at the beginning. I knew you guys were hiding something, and my family had a lot of books on the supernatural and whatnot. But I didn’t come fully in contact with my powers until my 18th birthday. That’s when I figured out everything,”

Boyd blinked. “Lydia, that was 5 months ago.”

She shrugged. “You guys didn’t tell me you were wolves, why should I tell you that I was a witch?”

Jackson looked like he was battling his own brain trying to wrap his mind around her words. “And Danny? Is he also…?”

“Danny’s grandmother is a witch, so he knows about the supernatural. I don’t know how much he knows about you guys _exactly,_ but I’m pretty sure he knew Ethan was a werewolf.” she easily explained.

The blond sat down beside Erica, and put his head on the table. “Oh my god,”

Kira seemed to recall something. “But why would you send those unkillable zombies after us?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. That was payback, and they were very easily killable.”

“Actually,” laughed Allison, settling next to her and stealing a piece of fruit, “they were on the verge of a mental breakdown yesterday when we found them. They didn’t understand why they just kept reattaching themselves even after they ripped them off limb by limb.”

The other’s face was pitying when she looked at them. “Fire, baby. The answer is _always_ fire.”

* * *

As much fun as watching the pack trying to rein themselves in during practice while, at the same time, trying to see what Danny knew, Stiles was glad when he finally got back home.

He threw himself on the couch, shoes discarded at the entrance and gave a loud sigh. Allison glanced at him there for a second, before shaking her head and disappearing upstairs.

For a twin sister that was supposed to know when something was up with Stiles, she was really _bad_ at her job. Or she knew something was up but simply didn’t care enough.

Yeah, that seemed more likely.

His hand went automatically to the small necklace around his neck, and he sighed again, more quietly this time.

It was a very beautiful piece, wooden and handcrafted. Stiles had actually been there when it was being made, although he hadn’t known it was for him back then.

+

_ “For me?” he asked, taking the finished piece in his hands. _

_ The dark-haired boy in front of him seemed slightly embarrassed, looking at a point on top of his head. “It’s a triskele. It’s like the symbol of our family, so…” _

_ Stiles lit up. “So this is like an engagement ring!” _

_ “No!” called the other boy, blushing immediately. Then he scowled at Stiles. “It’s not an engagement ring.” _

_ The brunette looked at him in confusion, and he sighed. “It’s just so that… you don’t forget about me when you go back home or something.” he finally said, refusing to make eye contact. _

_ When Stiles didn’t say something he huffed, and finally made eye contact with him, his green eyes burning into him. “Are you going to find a boyfriend or a girlfriend when you get back?” _

_ At this Stiles smiled, his missing tooth taking the spotlight. He wrapped his arms around his neck, ignoring the yelp of surprise and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Then he pressed his face between his palms. “No. I will come back to find you if I want to get married or something.” _

_ “I said it wasn’t an engagement ring,” huffed the other, but his cheeks were still rosy and it was clear he was pleased with his words. “Here, let me put it on you.” _

_ Stiles stopped jumping around, instead sitting down in front of the older boy as he fixed it on his neck. Then he turned to face him, a smirk on his young face. “As long as I wear this,” he promised, touching it with the pads of his fingers. “You will always be able to find me. And I’ll always be able to find you.” _

_ The other boy wanted to say that this was not a promise he would be able to make, but the younger’s face was so happy he couldn’t find it in himself to say it. So he just smiled. _

_ “I will always find you, necklace or not necklace.”  _

** DAY 6 - FRIDAY **

Stiles was glad that his sister and Scott were taking their relationship to the next level, he really was. But did they really have to be all cute and sweet to each other while he was driving them back to their house?

“Wait, really? A basilisk? That’s so amazing,” said Scott, his eyes more like an entranced fish than anything resembling a wolf.

Allison blushed, playing with her hair the same way she did whenever she was embarrassed about something, and, yeah… they were really cute.

As he stopped the car in the driveway, though, something else caught his attention. 

“Hey, Ally,” he said, a moment later, leaving the key still in ignition. “I just remembered, we are out of spaghetti. Why don’t you and Scott go to get us some?”

His sister was suspicious enough to stop making love eyes at Scott and narrow her eyes at her brother. “You are letting me drive your jeep?”

Every hair on Stiles’ body was rebelling against his brain and mouth, but he still managed to reply with a knowing wink. “Yeah, after all people like going to places with people,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “In twos. You know.”

His sister was not suspicious enough to be able to say no about a prospect date with Scott, and nodded immediately. “Scotty, do you want to come with me?”

As much fun as watching Scott’s reaction would have been, Stiles didn’t have time to wait and see.

Instead, he walked inside the house, waiting behind the closed door for Allison to start the car and leave again. Only after he was 100% sure both her and Scott were far enough to not hear anything in the house, he started towards the stairs.

One of the few rules their dad - Castiel - had been sure to instill in the twins was the importance of locking their doors and windows every time they went out, no matter how quick their trip was going to be; and that was a rule Stiles lived by and made sure to abide,  _ always. _

So, the fact that the window to his bedroom had been open when he parked the car in front of the house, meant that someone had went in. And, possibly, that they were still inside. 

But he didn’t feel in danger, and something in his chest  _ told  _ him that he was safe from whoever it was that was hiding inside his bedroom.

Because of this, he didn’t scream nor shout when he opened the door and saw the very injured werewolf slouching under his window. His heart - ever the traitor - did start beating incredibly fast, but he hoped the werewolf was too injured to notice it.

“I don’t know why I came here,” finally said the wolf, after a few seconds of Stiles staring at him.

The brunet snorted, moving closer to him. “Got tired of avoiding me?” He questioned, putting a finger in front of him and checking that he was able to follow its movement.

The wolf glared. “Avoiding you means I was making some sort of effort, and I was  _ not _ .”

His eyes looked fine, which meant that a lot of that blood was probably not his. “Yeah, right. You left right when I was showing off to your pack, the other day. That’s called avoiding to me.” He pulled out a small box from under his bed, and sat cross legged in front of the wolf. “Who kicked your ass?”

“Feral alpha wolf. Probably has been stuck in his body for years,” he shrugged, then winced at the pain. “There was nothing I could have done.”

Stiles, who had noticed the wince, narrowed his eyes. “Jacket off,” he ordered, but even as he said that, he was very careful in helping the man shrug the thing off with the least possible amount of harm done to both him and the jacket.

The werewolf didn’t miss that. “Isn’t it procedure to cut the jacket, to avoid ripping off skin?”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “I am not a doctor, and you’re a werewolf.” he told him.

But they both knew that it was not the real reason of his actions.

Stiles had not been there, the night of the fire. But when they met again in New York, the jacket looked big on him and also looked the same as the one his father, Theodore, usually wore around the reserve. It wasn’t hard making one plus one.

Stiles turned his attention to the wolf’s arm, his face turning serious once he noted the amount of shreds and claw marks on his arms and soaking through his shirt. He pressed a hand on his stomach, worry lines becoming more apparent when the other hissed in pain.

At his questioning look, the other looked towards the door. “I tried to see if I could help him shift back in his human form,” 

A bittersweet smile appeared on Stiles’ face. “You’ll never stop playing the hero, will you, Derek?”

The werewolf looked back to Stiles, green eyes burning into his. “I am no hero.”

“An Alpha werewolf turned batshit crazy killed your sister, a Darach, a poisoned Nematon, several isolated monster killings and an Alpha pack,” counted the brunet, “And you and your pack survived each and every one of those.”

Derek arched an eyebrow. “You did your homework.”

Stiles willed his cheeks not to redded as he dabbed something on Derek’s arm. “Only after I figured out Scott was a wolf and realised Isaac was living with you, mind you. I didn’t even know you were back in Beacon Hills.”

“I don’t believe, fuck,” he swore at the sudden pain. He then glared at Stiles, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

The other’s eyes looked a little  _ too  _ innocent. “Of course, not. It’s not like I am mad at you or anything.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Nor have you done anything right,” huffed the human, ripping the shirt off without warning. “This is going to hurt a little, you’re like a shredded piece of paper.”

Derek closed his eyes tightly, breathing through his nose only. “I haven’t done anything  _ wrong _ ,” he insisted, focusing on the calm sound of Stiles’ heartbeat instead of the pain.

“You didn’t find me when I arrived in Beacon Hills,”

“That, would have been wrong. That’s why I didn’t do it.”

Stiles scoffed at this, very contrasting with the careful way he was stitching Derek’s skin together. Normally, a wolf would heal immediately from these kind of injuries; however, Derek had contracted them with an Alpha wolf, even worse, a rabid wolf. The stitches would eventually be ejected by his own body once his natural healing had kicked in, and the plants mixture he was applying on the injuries were a natural healing booster.

“What about stalking me in the woods when I went to our treehouse? How is that different, or better than coming to see me?”

Derek’s eyebrows were apparently able to pass judgement even when his eyes were closed. “I was making sure you weren’t suddenly attacked or something.” he explained.

“I’m a hunter.”

“You’re…” he quietened, not finishing the sentence.

Stiles stopped what he was doing, staring at Derek’s face. “I am?”

The werewolf didn’t seem to want to continue his previous thought, but if there was something Stiles was, it was stubborn.

He climbed onto Derek’s lap, careful to avoid any of his injuries. Still, he couldn’t help but blush a little when Derek’s eyes shot open, a quizzical expression on his face. Stiles cleared his throat. “I am what?”

Derek stared at his face so intensely that Stiles had to convince his brain that he did  _ not  _ have anything stuck on it, before reaching out to touch the necklace hanging from his neck. He touched the wood like it was some sort of precious material, before turning his face back on Stiles. “You’re Stiles.” he finally said, letting go of the the triskele. “You deserve better, and to be protected.”

“I could kick your little werewolf ass if I wanted, are you aware of that?” 

Derek gave a small smile. “As those zombies demonstrated, I am not the scariest thing in those woods or in Beacon Hills.”

“The zombies were a little prank from Lydia Martin, and me and Allison killed both of them in seconds,” he gave him a smug look. “No offense, Derek, but you’re doing very little to convince me that I need to leave. If anything,  _ you  _ are the one who needs protection.”

The Alpha scowled at this, and turned to the side. “Your father brought you here for you to enjoy a normal-”

“How do  _ you  _ know why my dad brought me here?” questioned Stiles, and he literally  _ saw  _ the panic bells starting in Derek’s brain. Unless Castiel… “He  _ told  _ you?! He  _ knew  _ you were here?!”

Even though Derek refused to meet his eyes, Stiles knew he had found the reason. That’s why, despite Stiles begging for them to be taken to New York, his father had been resolute in bringing him to Beacon Hills. He knew about Derek being there.

Which meant, he probably knew about…

“You know,” he said nonchalantly, continuing to tend to Derek’s injuries without climbing off his lap. “Danny asked me out.”

The werewolf’s head snapped to look at Stiles’ so fast that Stiles was honestly impressed it didn’t fly off. “Who?”

The brunet did his best not to laugh as he continued. “Danny Mahealani. He’s Jackson’s best friend and we are in a lot of classes together. Pretty boy, really muscular, plays lacrosse.”

Derek swallowed. “And what did you say?”

“Done!” said Stiles, finally making to move off Derek. “You’re fine to- Der?”

The werewolf was staring at Stiles in the eyes, holding tight on his arm. “What did you say? To Danny?”

Stiles tilted his head to the side. “Why do you want to know? I thought this,” he touched his necklace, “Wasn’t an engagement ring.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice appeared a little strained. “What did you say?”

+

_ Laura looked up when Stiles and Derek walked into the living room, Derek looking around a little embarrassed, while Stiles held tightly onto his hand, beaming. _

_ “Ooooh,” called the older Hale, wiggling her eyebrows at her brother. “Derek is holding Stiles’ hand!” _

_ “Shut up, Laura!” _

_ “And we kissed too,” announced Stiles, grinning at the girl. _

_ Laura bursted into laughter, while Derek turned to Stiles blushing and shocked. “Why would you tell her that?!” Then, to Laura. “ _ He _ kissed  _ me  _ on the cheek! Stop laughing!” _

_ “Derek has a boyfriend!” sang Cora, making Laura laugh even harder. _

_ “No I don’t!” He tried, but immediately turned around to Stiles, when he felt the younger’s hand leaving his. “Stiles?” _

_ The brunet stared at him with his big doe eyes, looking disappointed. “You’re not my boyfriend?” he questioned, and Derek managed to blush even more than before. _

_ Laura and Cora were staring at him with glee in their eyes waiting to hear what he was going to say, and even Talia Hale had stopped working in the kitchen to hear what he was going to do. _

_ Derek put Stiles’ face between his hands, squishing his cheeks a little as he stared at him seriously. “As long as you wear that necklace,” he told him, “we will always be boyfriends. Got it?” _

_ Stiles smiled at that, and well, that was worth any mocking from his family. _

+

Stiles smiled, before leaning in and kissing him on the lips.

** DAY 7 - SATURDAY **

Morality and religion aside; how did one decide if what they were about to do was right or not right?

There was very little right about a werewolf kissing a barely legal teenage boy who also happened to be the son of famous werewolf hunters. 

However, after everything that had happened to him, all the deaths he had seen and witnessed, wasn’t it right for Derek to be a little selfish? Shouldn’t he be allowed to love and be loved by his mate?

Because he knew – _had always known_ – that Stiles loved him. Stiles had always loved him, since he was six years old and playing around in the woods, since he was eight years old writing him love letters in the tree house, since he was ten years old and visited him to tell him that no matter what he always loved him – almost like he knew that within a few months his whole world would burn -, since he was 14 years old finding him in New York and convincing him that drinking away his pain and getting into street fight wasn’t worth it.

Stiles _loved_ him. Loving him, loving Derek, damaged and poisonous Derek, was something that Stiles enjoyed, something Derek couldn’t make him stop no matter how much he tried.

No matter how much he tried to avoid him and just make sure he was okay, Stiles would _always_ find Derek, wherever he hid.

And Derek loved Stiles. Of course, he loved Stiles.

He had loved Stiles from the moment they had found themselves stuck on that tree upon their first meeting. Loved him when he was around and when he wasn’t, loving him was like breathing.

There was no other way to live, in Derek’s opinion, that didn’t involve Stiles. 

What happened when the selfless thing and the selfish thing to do, ended up being the same thing? What was Derek supposed to do?

Derek sent the text.

+

Derek had known Stiles had been in Beacon Hills from the moment the boy’s jeep had started down the Beacon Hills main road.

He had felt in his chest, the presence of the boy; the same way he had felt it when he was younger, every time Stiles came to Beacon Hills, the same way he had felt when they met again in New York.

He had avoided Isaac and the rest of the pack, sitting in the living room, before leaving through the woods, running towards the place where the pull was at its strongest, and there.

There he was.

Stiles.

The brunette had just parked his car, and Derek didn’t move, couldn’t move. 

Everything and everyone that had been important to him in his life, had been taken away from him. His pack, his parents, his siblings… all but one person.

All but Stiles.

And Derek would like Stiles to stay alive, thank you very much.

Because if he lost him too, if Stiles left him too… 

They had been separated by time, and space, several times already in the 12 years they had known each other, but Derek had always -  _ always  _ \- known that Stiles was still there.

So if Stiles got hurt or worse, Derek didn’t know what he would do.

He couldn’t risk letting him get hurt; but a huge fucking selfish part of him didn’t want him to leave. He would stay away from Stiles’ way while also making sure he was safe. Nothing was going to happen to him, as long as Derek was around.

As long as Stiles was alive and as long as he was there -  _ here  _ \- everything would be okay.

+

When Stiles’ dad - Castiel - showed up at Derek’s door, the werewolf was already on edge. 

How had he figured out where Derek lived? Had he seen him, the day before, hiding in the trees and watching their house until well after Scott had left? Did he -

“How are you, Derek?” asked Castiel, inviting himself in before Derek could ask him any of those question.

The werewolf followed the man in his house, shaking his head trying to formulate an answer. “Uhm…”

“I came here to ask you a favour,” continued the angel, not waiting for an actual answer. He sat down on the couch and then motioned for the empty seat. “Please sit down.”

Part of Derek wanted to explain that it was  _ his  _ house and that he’d seat when  _ he  _ wanted to sit; the other part had been taught manners by Talia Hale.

He sat down.

“Stiles and Allison are going to live here for a year. Alone. Without me or Dean or Sam or anyone else,” he started. “And while it was my idea, I can’t help but worry about them.”

He looked up at Derek. “You love my son, and, despite your differences, you care about my daughter too.”

“ _ Love _ ?!” nearly screeched Derek, staring at the man in shock. “I- I…”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Your mother explained to me that you were his mate years ago. Can we move past the part where you freak out and try to lie your way out of this? Dean doesn’t know, and I have my reserves about it still, but point is: you love Stiles. Take care of him, all right? Neither him nor Allison are very good at keeping out of harms way.”

There was so much Derek wanted to say about this all. But the words that left his mouth were,

“I would lie down my life for Stiles. His happiness is the most important thing in the world for me, his happiness is my happiness.” he told him. Then, a little flustered. “And of course, I’ll take care about Allison too. I’ll do my best.”

The older man stared at Derek for a few more seconds, as if trying to see any trace of lying in his eyes or something. He seemed satisfied with his scan, though, since a few moments later he smiled, nodding to himself. 

“I know you will. Thank you, son.”

It was the first time since the night his father died that someone called him son.

Derek nodded.

+

Of course, the first day after his father left Beacon Hills, Derek would find Stiles walking around in the woods, backpack on his back and a focused expression on his face. Of fucking course.

He had turned into a wolf an hour before, believing that there was something dangerous in the reserve, after finding traces of blood on the grass as well as a mauled - but not eaten - cougar bleeding out closer to the main town than he would have liked.

He had started investigating the track of the animal when he had heard the familiar heartbeat coming from not too far away, and rushed to find him and perhaps drive him away from the woods.

However, as he followed the brunet and his destination became clearer, Derek didn’t have the heart to find a way to make him leave. Instead he followed him to the tree house they spent so much time in when they were younger, trying his best to not make too much noise - at one point, it seemed like Stiles had sensed him; however, after a few seconds, the boy had continued walking, so maybe he hadn’t.

He had been waiting, camouflaged in the foliage, outside the tree house when Isaac had appeared next to him, out of breath.

“There are zombies in the woods, Dere-” he stopped, sniffing the air. “Shit, that’s a human. Is that… is that Stiles?”

For a second, Derek feared that somehow, Isaac had made the connection between Stiles and himself. See, that’s why he didn’t want to become too involved, to get too close to him again. He would only bring danger and problems to the younger guy and -

“He’s my classmate,” whispered Isaac, unaware. “He’s new and a friend of Scott’s. We need to get him out of there. How did he even find your childhood tree house?”

Thankfully, that’s when Stiles’ phone started buzzing loudly and, within a few minutes, the teenager was jumping outside of the house.

The younger beta immediately started walking with him, thinking that he was being protective or something, but the moment Stiles started singing, Derek knew the blond had been caught.

“One, two, three, four five, once I caught a  _ wolf  _ alive… Five, four, three, two, one, Stop right here, now you’re done!” Stiles turned around, pointing his flashlight directly into Isaac’s field of vision. “What?” 

Was that a hint of surprise in Stiles’ voice?

“God, turn that thing off!” complained Isaac, trying and failing to protect his eyes from the yellow light.

Derek wanted to scoff; for a werewolf, Isaac seriously had  _ no instincts. _

“Isaac. Why are  _ you  _ following me?”

Derek could not have imagined the inflection on the word ‘you’. Stiles had definitely been aware that someone was following him, someone who wasn’t Isaac.

“Well, uh… Why were you in there? This part of the reserve is private property.”

“Well  _ that  _ is mine. And secondly, why are you on private property?”

Of course Stiles would claim the house was his. Talia had only  _ lent  _ it to him to play in after Stiles’ dads saved him from being killed, but to Stiles the place was his and Derek’s. 

“It’s not yours, and uh… I live here.”

“It’s too. Talia made me sign for joint custody of it when I was six years old. And what do you mean you live here?” 

_ That  _ Derek didn’t know. But it sounded exactly like something his mother and Stiles would pull.

“You knew Talia Hale?”

The Alpha stiffened slightly. Unless Isaac was dumber than Derek had previously thought, there was no way he hadn’t made the connection that Stiles and Derek knew each other.

“Your name is Isaac Lahey.”

“It is…”

He could see the motors running haywire in Stiles’ brain as he tried to make sense of the situation, and nearly blew up his cover by laughing.

“Does Scott live with you?”

“Why would Scott live with me?!”

He could literally see the moment something pinged in Stiles’ brain, but it was way too quick for someone who didn’t know him to realise what had happened.

“Oh well. Goodbye, Isaac,” he finally said, walking away quickly.

Derek watched him walk away, and only came to stand next to Isaac once he had disappeared and his heartbeat was faint.

“Who the fuck  _ is  _ he?”

Derek was in his wolf form. Isaac couldn’t  _ possibly  _ expect him to answer.

+

The fact that the creatures in the woods were zombies was not something Derek had considered. 

Of course, he knew zombies were a thing; and he also knew that there were many type of zombies, each of them different from the others.

That was, however, the extent of his knowledge on zombies. His mother had not told him much about them except that they were usually raised by witches and that they didn’t  _ just  _ eat your brain, but every part of you they could find.

He became aware of Stiles’ heartbeat in the woods about the same time the zombies started attacking the pack.

It was faint, which meant that the teenager was still far enough to elude both the pack and the zombie, but he didn’t want to risk it. No way Stiles just happened to be in that section of the woods the same day he had called the pack to get there as quick as possible because of the zombies.

“Scott,” he called, taking his shirt off to be able to fully shift. “I can hear at least one human in the East part of the woods. Find a way to get them out of here,” he ordered, before turning.

Erica punched a werewolf out of the way, giving her Alpha a quizzical look. “Are you sure? I can’t hear anything.”

“He’s the Alpha, Rica,” told her Boyd, and Derek was glad for that.

And for the fact that in full shift he couldn’t speak.

Because if he had opened his mouth there was no guarantee the words ‘ _ I am so attenued to this heartbeat I could hear it a mile away if I tried hard enough _ ’, wouldn’t slip out of his mouth.

Once Scott left, however, the sound of the heartbeat became louder instead of quieter. But instead of transmitting fear, like any human heart upon hearing what sounded like a bunch of animals fighting each other, it sounded excited. Thrilled.

He tried to get the zombies away from the heartbeat - heartbeat _ s  _ now \- but still, he wasn’t surprised when suddenly three arrows erupted from the trees around them and Allison and Stiles emerged from the trees, spears in their hands.

He stayed there long enough to make sure they didn’t get hurt - although they neatly killed and burned all the zombies around them in less than two minutes - before retreating into the woods as quietly as possible.

+

Derek woke up the next day with regret and tons of messages from the pack asking him if he knew about the two of them being hunters, if they were in danger, why was Stiles asking about him (!!!), and that Stiles and Allison found the witch that was the cause of the zombies.

+

Derek didn’t know how exactly he had ended up in Stiles’ bedroom.

Well.

That was a lie.

He ended up in Stiles’ bedroom because, after being ripped in shreds by a unanchored omega Alpha werewolf, he had gone there - the safest place his Alpha senses could find.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt the werewolf, once he found it. After all he had, so far, only killed a cougar in the woods, and hadn’t attacked any human.

And truthfully, in his eyes Derek could see something familiar: the look of someone who became an Alpha too quickly, the look of someone who became an Alpha because there was nobody else to jump on.

But the moment he got too close to it, he found something else in his eyes.

_ Nothing _ .

He had lost everything he ever cared for.

He had lost even his anchor.

Maybe that’s why he ended up at Stiles’ house.

Maybe that’s why he waited there until Stiles got back.

Maybe that’s why, when Stiles got his weird first aid kit, he didn’t ask him to stop and didn’t leave.

Maybe that’s why, when Stiles said that Danny had asked him out, all the selfishness he had done his best to keep at bay had resurfaced with a vengeance.

Maybe that was why, when Stiles kissed him, Derek didn’t push him away.

Maybe that was why he kissed him back.

+

When Derek finally appeared downstairs, the entirety of the pack was already there, chilling around the loft; even the new comers seemed to have found somewhere comfortable to sit and talk to each other.

Allison was sitting next to Scott, laughing as he told her something about his very first full moon.

Lydia was sandwiched between Jackson and Isaac, explaining to them how every much quicker they could have dealt with each monster if they had only gotten their act together and told her about them being supernatural earlier.

“Are you happy, Derek Hale?” asked Stiles, appearing next to him with a packet of chips in his hands.

Happiness was such an abstract concept. After everything that happened, was Derek even able to be happy again?

“ _ His happiness is the most important thing in the world for me, his happiness is my happiness. _ ”

“I’m happy,” he said and Stiles smiled, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Derek’s ears turned a little red, Allison was glaring at him from the couch, and Kira and Erica looked thrilled, albeit with completely opposite energies.

Yeah.

He was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> after many many years, a part two finally arrived. i think its very sexy of me using this quarantine to find my unfinished fics and making sure I finish them. tell me how sexy i am in the comments thank you.
> 
> about destiel: idk exactly their relationship, everything i know its from tumblr, pls dont k word me.  
> but yeah. thats it. enjoy this


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